Suffer the Consequence
by Gevurah
Summary: ... even if you made it to the center of the Labyrinth, you'll never get back out again.
1. It Ends

**Suffer the Consequence**

_A Story by Gevurah_

_"... even if you made it to the center of the Labyrinth, you'd never get back out again."_

**It Ends**

The woman lounged carelessly upon the stone bench, idly playing with the dead lengths of vines that twisted her long hair loosely about her crown. She raised her gaze briefly as the King of the Goblins approached, before returning her attention on the small spider that crept lightly across her sun-browned knuckles. She waggled her fingers as the spider inches forward, creating an undulating terrain of skin over sharp knuckles.

"You let her go," she accused as the Goblin King neared, turning her hand so that the spider ran across the flat of her palm and back to her knuckles again.

He sighed and leaned one shoulder against a marble pillar, crossing his arms across his thin chest. The evening breeze tugged at his silken flowing shirt and ruffled his pale hair. "You're one to talk," he said dryly. "You avoided her."

Her gaze snapped to him. "I did nothing of the sort, _Jareth,_" she sneered. "You know perfectly well that she wasn't in the gardens long enough to meet me."

He grinned wolfishly and crossed the small enclosure to sit on the bench opposite her. He set his riding crop to the side and stretched his long legs out before him, crossing his legs at the ankles. "I'm rather fond of that name," he commented. "It's much better than some of the others I've acquired." He shot her a pointed look. "_Darien_ included."

"Besides," she continued, blithely ignoring his comment and returning her attention to the spider, "I'm best at preying on the hopelessly lost- whilst she had that _dwarf_ helping her." Her expression was the image of repulsion.

He laughed viscously at that, his dark eyes alive with mirth. "I'll admit: I expected her to fail at first, but watching Hogwart lead her down the primrose path was _highly_ entertaining."

"And still, you let her go," she said again, glaring at him from the corner of her eye.

His feral eyes glinted in the dying light and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "_I never let anyone go_," he said, the laughter fleeing from his voice. "You should know that better than most, _dearest,_" he sneered. "The Labyrinth always demands a life in the end- no matter the outcome."

She scowled. "Of course I know that. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for the game."

He reclined backwards, resting one sharp elbow on the back of the bench. "Imagine Sarah's surprise when she discovers that the victor's prize is an eternity trapped within the Labyrinth." He smirked wickedly. "I always thought it was a pleasant irony that those who successfully make it through the maze must forfeit themselves, instead of the child, in the end."

It was her turn to sigh and she did so, straightening her position on the bench. "I almost feel sorry for her," she said as she brought her hand to the level of her face, peering intently at the small, black spider.

"Almost?" he questioned with an ached brow.

She shot him a dark look. "Yes, _almost_," she said snidely. "If there were any goodness left within me, I believe I _would_ pity the girl. She certainly doesn't know what's she's gotten herself into."

He snorted disdainfully. "Were you _ever_ good?"

She looked cross. "I know it's been a long time, Darien, but surely even you can remember that I wasn't _all_ bad at one point." She looked down at the spider on her hand, her gaze faraway. "Even I was innocent once," she said softly as she leaned forward and laid the gentlest of kisses upon the spider's back. If the arachnid had vocal capabilities, surely it would have screamed. It writhed uncontrollably on her hand as its body morphed, snapping and breaking until paper thin wings the color of the darkest nightshade sprouted from its back.

The Goblin King watched the transformation with a small smile. When the newly formed butterfly took flight from her hand, he smirked. "I can only assume that this was _before_ you wished your youngest sister away."

Her jaw tightened and she let her hand drop to her lap. "Does it please you know that you were the one to eradicate the last vestiges of decency from my soul?" she asked tightly, refusing to look in his direction.

He grinned at her sour expression, revealing sharp canines that gleamed gold in the light of the falling sun. "With all my black little heart."

They fell silent for several moments, mutely watching the play of colors that streaked across the sky as the sun dropped beneath the mountains in the distance.

"You know you're my favorite guardian, don't you?" he asked softly, his eyes still enamored with the brilliant colors above their heads.

"_Guardian_, hmph." She snorted indelicately. "We guard nothing. I shall never understand your preference for that title." She drew her gaze from the sky and stood to her feet. "There are better names for the likes of us."

He cocked a brow lazily and stood as well, following her as she slowly made her way through the tall hedgerows, his boots making less noise on the cobbled stone walkway than her bare feet. "I'm ever confident in the knowledge that none will leave the gardens once you've sunk your claws into them."

"And who's fault is that?" she snapped. She stopped walking and waited until he caught up to her, frowning. "We're no better than Judas," she hissed fiercely. "We deceive them, earning their trust if we must, only to lead them to their doom."

He rolled his eyes heavenward. "You're so dramatic this evening."

She sighed and covered her eyes with one hand tiredly. "I know. It's been a frustrating day." She looked up, meeting his gaze. "You know how I get when I can't play with them. That blasted dwarf got to have all the fun."

"She reminded me of you," he commented lightly as they resumed their stroll. He took her hand and gentlemanly placed it in the crook of his elbow.

"So you noticed that as well?" she asked archly, pulling her hand from his grasp. "Then perhaps, once you've brought her back, she'll prove to a better sparring partner than myself and you'll finally leave me in peace."

"Jealous?" he asked, grinning smugly.

"Of that chit of a girl?" She scowled and shook her head negatively. "The day I'm jealous of a spoiled child will be my last, I promise you."

He shook his head, still grinning. "I can always tell when you're lying."

They had reached their destination and she sat on the edge of the low pedestal base, looking up at the sky once more. "I tire of this game, Darien," she said wearily. "I know I don't look it, but I'm getting old."

"You're younger than I," he interjected, tapping his riding crop impatiently against his lean leg. The long shadows that clung to his face distorted his features and made them terrifying.

She gave him a hard look. "But you were never human." She frowned. "In fact, you were never anything at all. You just..." she trailed off, searching for the proper term. "You just _are_." She gestured to herself. "My body still remembers that once I was destined to die."

"Deceiving challengers for all eternity isn't your idea of fun, then?" he asked maliciously, narrowing his eyes. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before you wished your sister into my care."

She glared at him and stood to her feet, climbing to stand atop the pedestal. "I should have thought of a lot of things back then," she snapped, fisting her hands on her hips. "I was a careless, stupid girl, Darien, and now I'm spending the rest of my immortal life in purgatory for those sins."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "So they're sins now?" He _tsked_, shaking his head. "You certainly are moody this evening. Where has my lioness gone, and who is this morose kit that has taken her place?"

She opened her mouth to retort, but raised her head to the sky instead in an abrupt change of demeanor. "The moon's rising," she said, her voice sounding hollow and faraway.

"As regular as clockwork," he remarked sarcastically.

She turned her gaze on him, her eyes wide in the near-darkness and deceptively tranquil. "Perhaps your lioness will return on the morrow," she said, her voice growing eerily emptier as the seconds progressed.

"Sleep," he said quietly, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "There's always tomorrow."

"Of course there's always tomorrow," she said, sounding as if she wanted to laugh. "We have all of eternity to squabble."

He watched as the transformation took place, his eyes growing soft in the budding moonlight. When it was complete, he raised one slender hand to cup her pale, marble cheek. "She reminded me of you," he said softly before dropping his hand, "wild, fierce, and passionate." He smiled to himself, alone in the moonlight. "You were both angry at the world."

He fell silent for a moment, watching as the first shards of moonlight fell upon his silent companion. "Yes," he said at length, addressing the statue before him, "Sarah will be a welcome addition to my collection of guardians- just you wait and see." He smirked and turned to go. "Eternity will have never been so entertaining."


	2. It Begins

**It Begins**

The woman fell from the sky.

She landed in the garden's cobbled courtyard in a tangle of dark hair and long white skirts. After impact, she lay silent and unmoving; her limbs and dress pale against the rough, stained stones. The Labyrinth was silent in the wake of her fall, though the tall hedgerows that surrounded her rustled quietly in the burgeoning breeze.

Above, the angry evening skies were in stark contrast with the unmoving maze as they broiled with dark, coiling thunderclouds. The clouds themselves were of impossible colors. Furious red and deep, navy blue twisted amidst each other, ultimately creating long turbulent fields of rich violet in which thunder rumbled and lightning flashed.

The woman lay lifeless for the better part of a minute before her eyelids flickered awake. Groaning and grasping her head with one slender hand, she slowly moved her body into a sitting position before peering beyond the dark curtain of her hair.

What she saw came as quite a shock and, if she weren't still reeling from the ridiculous fall, she might've said something quite unladylike.

"Oh," a woman's voice said dryly from behind her, "you're back."

Sarah turned and looked up at the dark-haired woman who lounged on an elaborately carved bench across the courtyard. "Where am I?" she asked, dazed.

The woman's facial expression could hardly be called a smile and Sarah flinched. "You know exactly where you are, Sarah." She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but paused, frowning. "Though, as to why you're _here_, I have no idea."

Sarah slowly stood to her feet, still clutching her head. When she removed her hand, there was bright red blood on her fingertips. She blanched at the sight and dabbed at her temple again. "How do you know my name?" she asked. "Who are you?"

The woman, however, appeared not to have heard her questions- her gaze was caught by Sarah's dress. "Is that a wedding gown?" she asked in a peculiar, stunted tone.

Sarah looked down at herself and felt her chest constrict painfully her memory righted itself. "Yes," she said, half giddy with happiness and half horrified at her present circumstance. "It is."

The woman clapped one hand over her mouth and it took Sarah a minute to discern that she was laughing. She was laughing. This woman with wild hair and a torn dress. This woman had the gall to laugh at her? At Sarah's insulted expression, the woman gave up all pretenses of hiding her mirth and nearly doubled over with the force of her laughter.

"He's twisted," the woman gasped, "completely and utterly twisted. He waited all this time, only to snatch you from your wedding?" She laughed so hard, tears rolled down her cheeks. "Sometimes I really do love the deceitful bastard."

Tears were also in Sarah's eyes, but they weren't a result from gaiety. Catching site of Sarah's distress, the woman stoppered her laughter and stood regally. Her wild grey eyes were sharp as they regarded Sarah. Above them, lightning illuminated the darkening evening sky.

"Is poor, little Sarah having a bad day?" the woman asked, her lips twisting in a wicked sneer. Sarah looked away in response and the woman's voice took on a hard, bitter edge. "Not to worry, I'm sure he'll _love_ to kiss it and make it all better again."

Sarah instantly knew who _he_ was. She felt ill and the woman laughed again, watching as Sarah's face paled.

"Where is he?" Sarah asked, gasping for breath as she fought to control her turbulent stomach and reaching out one hand to steady herself against a tall hedgerow. She had to close her eyes as her stomach rolled at the thought of seeing him again.

"And why would I tell you that?"

Feeling her ire rise at the woman's mocking manners, Sarah cracked one eye and glared at the woman. "Where is he?" she repeated with more force.

The woman shrugged delicately and reclaimed her seat. "He's here, somewhere," she said, gesturing vaguely to the maze around them.

"Bring him here," Sarah demanded, straitening and crossing her arms defensively.

The woman raised an eyebrow dryly, clearly amused by Sarah's demands. "You need only call him," she said, a small smirk twisting her lips. "Call him and he will come."

The familiar words gave Sarah pause and she found that she had to swallow thickly. "W-why do you say that?"

"Because," the woman said condescendingly, "that's the way things work around here."

In the turbulent skies, thunder grumbled ominously, echoing Sarah's sense of impending peril.

"Why am I here?" she asked fearfully. "Has someone wished me away?"

Sarah thought the woman looked like the proverbial cat who had just eaten the canary. "No one has wished you away, Princess," she said, reclining backwards. She obviously knew something Sarah did not. Sarah wasn't sure if that fact annoyed or frightened her.

"Then why am I here?" she asked again.

The other woman looked bored. "You'll have to ask him," she said, reaching up and snapping off a leafy twig from the tall hedge behind her.

"_Never_."

The vehemence in Sarah's tone caused the woman to look up from the branch in her hands. Her eyes narrowed. "Stop acting like a child," she said.

"You can't make me call him," Sarah said stubbornly.

The woman's eyes flashed. "Have it your way, you spoiled little brat," she sneered. "But don't come crying to me when you can't find your way out of the hedge-maze."

Sarah set her jaw proudly. "I did it before, I can do it again."

The woman's lips twitched. "You did no such thing, the dwarf led you out." Her lips stretched into a smile, slow and feline. "You were lucky. If he hadn't decided to take pity on you, you would've eventually met me." The cold confidence in the woman's gaze sent a shiver down Sarah's spine and she hugged her arms to herself.

Sensing fragile vulnerability, the woman stood and began to advance on Sarah with a predatory gleam in her dark eyes. "I was rather disappointed to have been denied my chance with you," she said. "I'll have you know I'm the best."

Unwilling to break eye contact, Sarah slowly backed away. "The best?"

The woman's smile widened, revealing white canines. "Guardian," she said simply, advancing another step.

Sarah retreated in kind. "What's a guardian?"

"You've met them before, Princess" the woman purred. "The dwarf, the beast, the knight and his dog... we're all guardians." Sarah found herself entranced by the throaty quality the woman's voice had developed. There was an odd measure of seductive comfort in it.

Sarah shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs that clung to her mind. "I don't understand."

"We're part of the Labyrinth," the woman explained, reaching out one hand and slowly caressing Sarah's long, dark hair. Sarah's eyes felt weighted, so she closed them, reveling in the woman's touch. It was like her mother's hand on her hair, her mother's voice in her ear. "We each have our own district to guard," the woman continued softly, "I have the inner gardens, the Dwarf has the gates, the Knight has his swamp."

"You guard it?" Sarah murmured, having caught the odd terminology. "From what?"

The woman leaned close to Sarah's, her face only inches from Sarah's own. Sarah could smell the languid, earthy scent that clung to her. It was like damp soil and dying leaves. "From _you_," the woman whispered.

Sarah's eyes flew open, breaking the spell. She stumbled backwards hastily, putting distance between herself and the woman. "From me?" she asked, horrified.

The other woman's eyes hardened. "Yes, from you," she snapped, advancing on purposeful feet and forcing Sarah to retreat until she felt the hard branches of a hedgerow digging into her back. "From you and others like you. We're red herrings and false confidants who do our best to trick and deceive you. We're to prevent you from completing the Labyrinth at all costs."

Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "Hoggle never-- they would _never_ trick me," she protested. "They're my friends."

The woman laughed scornfully. "They aren't your friends," she sneered. "Like I said, you're lucky the dwarf took pity on you. If you had reached my domain, I would have led you to your death." She paused and her angry expression suddenly melted, giving way to one of satisfaction. "Of course," she purred, reaching for Sarah's hair once more, "you're here now, aren't you?"

Sarah thrust her hands away and made to dash for a nearby entrance of the hedge-maze. "Stay away from me!"

"You have no where to run, Princess," the woman called, following at a leisurely pace. "No one to help you. What will you do now?"

Sarah didn't care. She only cared about putting as much distance between herself and the woman. She ran on tottering heals through the hedgerows, taking only a moment to pause in her flight to remove the offending shoes before taking flight once more. Her hair whipped out behind her, the harsh breeze giving it wings as she randomly turned corners.

Suddenly, she broke free from the hedge-maze and found herself in a peculiar clearing. Before her lay a smallish pond. Large enough that one would have to swim to reach the small center island, through such a tiny protuberance of land could hardly be called an island. It was just large enough to house a looming scarlet willow tree. The tree was _odd_. Like everything else she had seen in the Labyrinth, there was something unusual about the tree that didn't sit right in her stomach. It sat on the tiny island in the middle of the small lake, it's long red branches dipping beneath the surface of the water.

Sarah looked behind her, to make sure the woman wasn't sneaking up upon her. Satisfied she was alone, she drifted closer to the edge of the water and looked down. The water was dark and she couldn't see the bottom. Sarah shivered with apprehension. There was something not right about this place.

"Careful, Princess," the woman's sharp voice said behind her. Sarah whirled around and found herself face to face with her pursuer.

"Trust me," the woman said with a sharp smirk. "You don't want to go in there." The woman advanced on silent bare feet, her eyes gleaming, and Sarah took a tiny step backward but her heel met only air. There was no where to go. Her foot slipped. Sarah panicked.

"Jareth!" She shrieked, covering her eyes with her hands.

Suddenly, there was warmth pressed against her back and hands resting heavily on her thin shoulders, preventing her from toppling further. "You called, milady?" his voice purred in her ear.

In front of her, the woman looked cross. "Spoilsport," she spat at the Goblin King.

Sarah could hear the grin in his voice as he spoke. "So, how are you finding my Labyrinth, Sarah?"

She whirled on him, and was surprised to find that they were now several feet from the lip of the pool. "Take me home," she demanded. "You have no right to keep me here!"

To Sarah's chagrin, he only smirked. "Why would I do that? You're mine to keep. A bargain's a bargain."

"What are you talking about?"

The woman looked exasperated. "What he means to say, dearest Sarah, is that since you completed the Labyrinth successfully, you must stay here in your brother's stead."

Sarah blinked owlishly. "That's ridiculous."

Beside her, the Goblin King _tsked_. "Come now, Sarah. You entered into a magically binding agreement with the Labyrinth-"

"I did no such thing!"

"Yes, you did," he countered. "The second you said the words, you bound yourself to the game." His grin was feral.

"I was just a child! I didn't know what I was doing!" Sarah cried.

"Ignorance is no excuse, Sarah."

"It-- it's not fair!"

The Goblin King threw back his head and laughed boisterously. Above them, thunder boomed threateningly. "Nevertheless," he said with a grin, "what's said is said. You're mine to keep forever."

Poor Sarah look bewildered. "But-"

"No, buts, Sarah," he said, gently squeezing the tip of her nose as if she were nothing but a toddler.

"Where will I stay? What will I do? You surely can't expect me to guard-"

All of the laughter left his eyes. "That's exactly what I expect you to do," he said, his voice hard.

"I can't-"

"You _will_." In a sudden change of demeanor, he looked thoughtful and a sly gleam lit his eyes. "And as for where you will stay, you can stay here- in the garden."

The woman, who had been silently watching the exchange, narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean, exactly," she asked coldly.

He smirked and it was a horrible thing to witness. "You'll share." He laughed at their identical appalled expressions as his body shimmered and took flight.

"No!" the woman cried, leaping after him, but the owl was already beyond her reach. "You can't do this!"

The rain began to fall.

"Darien!" the woman shrieked, stomping her barefoot against the ground in a rare show of childish petulance. "Come back here this instant! I am _not_ spending eternity with _her_!"

Sarah swore she could hear laughter on the wind as it whipped through the hedgerows.

**The End**


End file.
